


Halfhearted

by brightened



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23920846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightened/pseuds/brightened
Summary: The Potters host a betrothal ball to shore up spirits amid the ever-growing threat of Lord Voldemort. Sirius isn’t trying to marry James, of course, but he goes anyway.
Relationships: Sirius Black/James Potter
Comments: 27
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProngsfootxJily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProngsfootxJily/gifts).



> This is my first James/Sirius piece thanks to a lovely review by ProngsfootxJily. I’m more of a Sirius/Severus person but I really enjoyed writing this fic and hope you enjoy reading it. 
> 
> This started off a loose retelling of Cinderella and just grew from there. Here’s your warning that there’s lots of questionably written sex.

“Mr. Black.”

Sirius snaps his head up from where it lies, chin to chest, and blinks blearily at Professor Morantheau. He tries to be subtle as he thumbs the drool off the corner of his mouth. 

“Sir?” Sirius asks. He notices now there’s a rather impressive puddle on his desk. He swipes his robe sleeve across it and dries most of it up. There. Evidence of slumber concealed.

“I trust you are not sleeping in my class,” Morantheau says, eyebrows furrowed, “especially on the first day of spring term in the year of your NEWTs.”

“Of course not,” Sirius says as heartily as he can manage. He even flashes a winning, slightly seductive grin. One could call it a smolder. Morantheau remains impassive.

“I would hope not,” Morantheau says. “I don’t allow such mediocrity in my highest level courses.” He sweeps off and Sirius wonders for whose benefit that speech was made. Maybe six years ago, when they were all trembling firsties, someone would have been cowed by Morantheau’s admonishment. Instead Sirius feels bored and mildly disappointed and, judging by his classmates, he’s not alone. Longbottom stares out a window, Evans fiddles with something in her lap, and Snape scrawls far too furiously in a journal to be taking notes.

He’s been surrounded by these same people for six years now, could anyone blame him for being bored to sleep? And nevermind that he had created a severe sleep debt over the winter break, spending his nights enchanting his motorcycle part by part. Thinking of the now fully flying but currently shrunken motorcycle in his trunk, Sirius grins. Becoming an Animagus had been important, creating the Marauders Map had been useful, but this was the first magical project he’d completed purely for his own enjoyment and by his own effort. 

Sirius is still smirking, daydreaming, when Ancient Runes ends and Morantheau dismisses them all. He briefly considers trekking down to the Great Hall for lunch but ultimately his bleary eyes win out and he retires to the common room. A group of second years cheer over a deck of Exploding Snap and two fourth years whisper, bent over a particularly thick text. The room is otherwise empty. Sirius slides a hand into the pocket of his robe and fondles the Whoopee Cushion - a Muggle trick Peter had revealed to the group. He could easily stick it somewhere without detection - perhaps Evans’ favorite armchair, or the plush loveseat favored for snogging?

Sirius yawns and his interest in pranking wanes. He never thought he’d see the day but for some reason, a nap sounds far more delicious than some red-faced student shrieking. 

“You’ve become boring in your old age, Padfoot,” he mumbles to himself in a passingly good imitation of James. Then he climbs upstairs and collapses into his bed. He’s asleep within seconds and he dreams of a roaring engine, wind whipping through his hair.

••••

“Ah, bad luck,” Remus says, grinning, as his pawn smashes James’s queen to pieces.

“I’ll show you bad luck,” James mutters and flashes both middle fingers.

“I believe that would be quite good luck,” Sirius says.

“Not from James,” Remus says and casts eyes around the common room. “Not from anyone in here, frankly.”

“We already know how picky you are,” James says. 

“Don’t worry, James,” Sirius says and winks at a fifth year as she walks by. She rolls her eyes in response but at least her friend giggles. “I’ll take everyone for Remus.”

“Everyone?” Peter echoes and looks pointedly at Evans. “James might have to have a word.”

“Merlin, Peter, why’d you have to bring her up?” Sirius complains but it’s too late. James is already laser-focused, eyes locked on the redhead. Sirius, for some reason he can’t explain, wishes he’d stuck the whoopee cushion in her chair after all.

The chess board lays forgotten as James leans back in his seat and glances around at his friends. “I actually had an interesting talk with my folks over break,” James says. He looks back at Evans for a moment. “They want me to hold a betrothal ball.”

“No,” Sirius hisses while Remus and Peter look nonplussed.

“A what?” Peter asks.

“Pureblood bullshit,” Sirius growls. “Families auction off their teenagers to ensure the bloodline continues.”

“Historically, yes,” James says. “But it’s really up to the family. My parents thought we could use it as a kind of anti-Pureblood show. Invite everyone regardless of so-called blood status, have a huge party, get everyone’s mind off You-Know-Who for a night.”

“Don’t you think such a big group would be a target?” Peter asks anxiously. His fingers twist together in his lap.

“I’d love to see him try and get past my family’s wards,” James said with a snort. “Only to face an attack from hundreds of wizards. He’s an idiot but he’s not stupid.” James pushes his hand through his hair, ruffling the brown strands, and glances at Evans once again. “I figured Lily will go, too.”

“Brilliant plan,” Sirius says. “Nothing says true love like forcing her into a magical engagement with you.”

“No one will be forced into anything, Sirius. It’s my parents running it, remember? It’ll be some spell to guarantee whoever I pick has to go on a couple dates with me. Nothing more.” James frowns. “You think it’s a bad idea?”

“I’d love a distraction from it all,” Remus says. 

“Me too,” Peter agrees.

“Well, I’m always in for a party,” Sirius says though reluctantly. He mimes holding an invisible glass and lifts it in a toast. “To continuing the bloodline!”

“That’s sick,” James says. “You’re being a prick.”

“Sorry,” Sirius says shortly. “I guess it’s a lifetime of being raised expecting a forced betrothal at 18.” He reaches out and takes a pawn from the discarded game. It’s smooth and cool in his hand, a small figure but with a decent heft. “But really. I’m sorry. I’m all in. Operation: Host a Ball and Seduce Lily Evans is a go.”

“I’ll think of a better name,” Remus says.

“What’s wrong with my name?” Sirius asks indignantly.

They bicker the rest of the evening away.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius is enjoying a very pleasant dream involving someone with messy hair sucking his cock quite enthusiastically when a sharp pain to his rib cage jolts him awake.

“Fuck,” he tries to yell but a hand pressed over his mouth muffles his swear.

“Calm down, Black,” comes a whispered voice that Sirius recognizes as James.

“The fuck time is it?” Sirius asks, mouth now uncovered, and rubs his eyes.

“1 AM,” James says. “I can’t sleep.”

“I can,” Sirius grumbles but, like the good friend he is, he sits up. James perches on the edge of his bed, expression hard. “What’s going on?”

“Fancy a walk?” James asks and holds up his Invisibility Cloak.

Twenty minutes later, James throws the cloak off his shoulders and pushes the trapdoor to the Astronomy tower open. He climbs the vertical ladder without a word and Sirius mutters a few swear words but follows him up.

“I’m not the worst friend ever,” James says as Sirius melts a circle in the snow and casts several warming spells on their dressing robes. “I brought snacks.” James pulls various cakes and pastries from his pockets and lets them fall on the floor as they both sit on the newly cleared roof. Sirius rips open a Cauldron Cake and stuffs the entire thing in his mouth.

“Mhrfhrm,” he says around the chocolate cake, crumbs flying. James watches bemusedly as Sirius swallows it down with great effort. “Why are we here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” James repeats and then looks away. “My parents told me some things.”

“The betrothal ball, right.”

“Not that,” James says. “That’s part of it, I guess. They told me they’re part of this organization fighting You-Know-Who. Dumbledore runs it, it’s called the Order of the Phoenix.” James picks at his robe and stares into his lap as he adds, “You-Know-Who is killing them off one by one. My parents think their turn is coming soon.”

“Damn,” Sirius says because he has nothing else to say. So many people have died at this point. Friends, relatives, relatives of friends, classmates. It seems impossible that the Potters could die yet they would just be two more added to the very long list.

“I know,” James says. “That’s also why they want to throw the ball. See everyone for maybe the last time. Hopefully not, you know. They’re fighting but…” 

“We should join,” Sirius says. James snaps his eyes up. “Right? The more, the stronger, don’t you think? I bet Remus and Peter would join too.”

“That’s why you’re a better man than me,” James says after a very long pause. “I asked them why they didn’t just quit.”

“That’s your parents,” Sirius says. “Of course you want them safe.”

“But none of us are,” James says and Sirius has to nod in agreement. “Well, fuck. Guess we’ll have to sign up after we graduate. If we’re going to die either way, at least we’ll go down fighting.”

“Cheers,” Sirius says and lifts his half-eaten Pumpkin Pasty. James grins and lifts a still-wrapped danish in response.

“Cheers.” 

••••

News of the betrothal ball, to be held over spring holidays, spreads quickly through the school. James patiently discusses his plans with the various students that approach him asking for details. More than a few girls walk away blushing and grinning and Sirius realizes James is really looking forward to the ball.

“We’ve had about 200 RSVPs,” James says one morning over breakfast. “But the MVP is not among them.”

“Why don’t you talk to her about it?” Peter asks.

“I don’t think that will go over well,” Remus says lightly. 

“When does anything go over well when Evans is involved?” Sirius asks. He expects James’s scowl but is surprised when Remus aims an equal one at him. “What?”

“Lily is not the problem,” Remus says and James nods.

“I’ve been a git,” James says.

“So we’ve been saying,” Peter agrees.

“And if I can get Lily to see that I know and I’ve changed, maybe…”

“Might be too late for that,” Remus says. James shrugs. Remus methodically cuts his pancake into tiny squares and adds nothing else. Sirius is, on the whole, confused but he eats his breakfast without delving deeper. His friend’s obsession with a certain girl has always puzzled and frustrated him in turns. Especially considering what James has revealed about his parents and the Order of the Phoenix, what they all know about You-Know-Who. His crush seems painfully childish in comparison.

“Well, wish me luck,” James says as he swings up off the bench. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Good luck,” Remus says then stands as well and crosses the Great Hall to exit into the grounds. After a moment of furious chewing, Peter swallows the food in his mouth and follows Remus. Sirius, plate still piled high, doesn’t consider going with them. He sits and eats and watches as James drops into an open seat across from Evans. She scowls at him, as usual, and he jabbers away, leaning forward with earnest eyes.

“Pathetic,” Sirius mumbles around his mouthful of scrambled eggs.

Then Evans laughs. It is the first time James has made her laugh, at least as far as Sirius knows. James looks absolutely delighted at his good fortune and he keeps speaking, then she laughs again and starts talking and James listens, enraptured.

Feeling suddenly totally disinterested in food, Sirius casts a warming spell on his robes before making his way out of the hall. 

On the grounds he finds Remus and Peter constructing an igloo, discussing an upcoming Potions exam.

“James have any luck?” Peter asks.

“Evans laughed,” Sirius says and the snow brick that Remus is levitating falls to the ground. He turns and stares at Sirius, an odd expression on his face.

“Seriously?” Remus asks. 

“I know,” Sirius says. “It’s obnoxious. Now they're going to be making out all the time and we have to watch.” Sirius fakes a retch and while Peter guffaws, Remus looks morose. He slumps down onto the snowy ground, next to the start of their igloo, and sighs.

“I guess we knew this day would come,” Remus says. “James always gets what he wants.”

“Makes the betrothal ball a waste of time,” Peter says. 

“Definitely not,” Sirius says. “I’m sneaking in Firewhiskey.” Peter grins and even Remus perks up slightly at that. They spend the morning in the snow, discussing plans for the ball, and it’s only when they start to head inside for lunch that Sirius begins to wonder what had Remus so bothered.


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius flicks his fingers through his curls, settling them more evenly across his head, and then sticks his tongue out at his reflection. The dark green dress robes had to be spelled a few inches longer since, of course, his mum had not bothered to buy him any new ones in years. The sleeves were trickier and so he left them alone and several inches of wrist sticks out.

But it doesn’t really matter. Sirius is mostly looking forward to drinking too much. He doesn’t need properly fitting robes for that.

Through some negotiation and likely a generous donation, the Potters have convinced the Ministry and Dumbledore to allow of-age students to travel to the ball from The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade and so that is where Sirius walks, alone as Remus and Peter stay behind finishing up a round of Gobstones.

He’s early anyway but he knows the Potters won’t mind and indeed Mr. and Mrs. Potter take five seconds to grab him in enthusiastic hugs before darting off to continue directing the House Elves.

“They’re beside themselves,” James says,  
emerging from one of several sitting rooms, grinning. “What are you wearing?”

“Robes,” Sirius says stupidly.

“Are those the same robes you wore for Christmas in our fourth year?” James asks and he squints as though the blurred vision will provide additional answers.

“I’m deeply concerned you remember that,” Sirius says. He flushes slightly. He shouldn’t feel embarrassed - it’s just James - but somehow he does.

“My mum bought four sets of robes, you know, in case I wanted a dramatic outfit change.” James grins. “You can borrow one if you want.”

“They’d still be too short,” Sirius says unkindly. James shrugs and looks away.

“You’ve been a real ass lately,” he says. “Something going on with your parents you haven’t told me?”

“It’s not always about them,” Sirius says and pulls in his bottom lip to chew on it. “But you’re right. I dunno. It’s hard to relax and enjoy myself knowing that madman is out there and after your parents.”

“I know,” James says, “but I’m trying. They’re trying. You could too.”

“I could,” Sirius says, smiling slyly as he reaches into his robe. “Or I could use this to cope.” Sirius holds out the skull-shaped flask, smirk fading way to a triumphant grin, and James’s eyes light up.

“Firewhiskey?” James asks. “May I?”

“Of course,” Sirius says. He watches James unscrew the cap and take a deep swig and something inside him enjoys the moment immensely. Just the small simple happiness he brought his friend, and there’s also something about the way he brings the flask to his mouth.

“Cheers?” James asks, extending the flask back. Sirius takes it and gulps down his own mouthful, reveling in the burn, then closes the bottle and stows it back away. “I did manage to talk them into wine and champagne.”

“So classy,” Sirius says and lifts his pinky in a mocking salute.

“We can’t all pull off the skull flask,” James says.

“James?” Mrs. Potter calls from the kitchen. “Can we get your help in here? Guests should arrive any moment!” Her voice comes thin and strained from stress so with a nod at Sirius, James turns and goes to assist.

Alone, Sirius looks down at his robes and decides he has enough time to pay James’s room a visit.

••••

The Potters go all out for the ball. A spare bedroom is transformed into a cavernous dance hall and as Sirius enters, now dressed in a set of navy robes from James’s closet, he’s struck by the sheer number of bodies. Wizards and witches stopped gathering months ago as You-Know-Who attacked more and more often. It was a sign of respect and trust that so many had shown up.

The Aurors patrolling the house both inside and out do not hurt.

And surely, Sirius thinks, watching girl after girl flock to James, the guest of honor had his own draw.

“I don’t see Evans,” Peter says from Sirius’s right. Sirius turns and grimaces at his two friends. Peter is craning his neck to over and around everyone. Remus just beams, for what reason Sirius isn’t sure.

“And she’d be hard to miss with that hair.” Sirius scans the crowd for himself and notes the same lack of flaming hair. He shrugs. “James said there’s champagne, fancy finding some?”

“Sorry,” Peter says. “I’m going to go talk to Tara.” He nods at the girl - a blonde Hufflepuff standing with a handful of friends - and inhales to steel himself before walking over. Remus, eyebrows lifted, watches him walk away.

“That’s unlike Peter,” he says.

“You next?” Sirius prods and Remus grins.

“I just came for the Firewhiskey,” he says and sticks out his hand. They stand against the wall, passing the flask back and forth, watching the crowd. Sirius finds James, standing across the room with his parents, another older couple, and a girl Sirius doesn’t recognize. From the stern features he guesses they might be from Durmstrang.

“Alright,” Remus says. “I made my appearance. I’m heading back.”

“Already?” Sirius asks. “It’s only just started. James’s parents still have to announce the betrothal rules and all that. It might be good for a laugh. He might have to, I dunno, duel a troll.”

“I highly doubt that,” Remus says, “and at this point, would that even be a challenge for James?”

“Fair point,” Sirius says. “You’re really going?”

“Afraid so,” Remus says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius says and waves his hand dismissively. “Be safe, Moony.”

“Always,” Remus says and turns to duck out of the room, back towards the entrance and the secure Portkey returning them to Hogsmeade.

Instantly bored, Sirius scans the crowd again and has to grin when he spots Peter snogging the aforementioned Tara. Good for him. At least the ball would pay off for someone, if not James.

“Hey!” a voice hisses from his left. Startled, Sirius jerks back, hand sliding to his wand instinctively. He turns and finds James, grinning. “What? You think a Death Eater would bother saying hello first?”

“They might,” Sirius says. “You know Purebloods. Big on manners.”

“Good evening, sir, I’m here to disembowel your children and hang your Muggle wife from the rafters,” James says in a mockingly posh accent. 

“Carry on, then. Mind the carpet, I just bought it in Bangladesh last year,” Sirius answers with a sweeping bow and James laughs.

“We’re sick.”

“Demented,” Sirius agrees. “Why are you here and not snogging every woman you can get your grubby paws on?” 

The amused light in James’s eyes turns off, giving way to a solemn stare, and something intense burning underneath that Sirius can’t place.

“I brought champagne,” James says as answer, holding up two flutes. “Want to drink them in the garden with me? Dad says if he catches me drinking any more he’ll charm it all to water.”

“What a buzzkill,” Sirius says. “After you.”

The gardens are very familiar to Sirius. He’s played countless one-on-one Quidditch games with James, and admittedly spent more than his fair share of time pouting amongst the rose bushes due to one teenage angst or another. Usually it’s a bright place, filled with a rainbow of foliage, but it looks subdued in the darkness and the pair of patrolling Aurors lends an ominous air.

They settle on a white bench and Sirius downs his champagne in three large swigs. James snorts and passes the second glass to him as well.

“You’re blitzed,” James says.

“Only reason I came,” Sirius says. 

“And to steal my robes, I see. After you insulted me when I so graciously offered them,” James says.

“This is where you _graciously_ rub my face in my past mistakes?” Sirius sniffs, placing both empty glasses on the garden floor. He realizes how much alcohol he’s imbibed when the second glass slips from his fingers and lands sideways. In his attempt to right it, he knocks the other glass down.

“Blitzed,” James repeats. Suddenly, his shoulders slump, and from the look on his face Sirius already knows where this is going. “Lily didn’t show.”

“She sure didn’t,” Sirius says flatly.

“And I don’t even care,” James continues. Sirius snorts and gestures up and down. He’s closer than he thought and his hand brushes James’s chest.

“This doesn’t look like not caring,” he says. 

“I’m worried about my parents,” James says. “I thought if Lily came it would be a distraction but I’m glad she didn’t. I need to focus on my parents, on the Order, on things that actually matter.” Sirius feels a weird twinge at these words, almost like sucker punch to his stomach that doesn’t take his breath away. 

“This is a wonderful revelation to have at your own betrothal ball,” Sirius says. James groans and leans forward, elbows propping up on his thighs, hands gripping his dark hair.

“Who the fuck am I going to pick? I talked to a witch from Durmstrang, I think her parents might kill me if I don’t choose her.”

“Pick me,” Sirius says before he realizes he’s speaking. James looks up at him sharply, hair falling across his forehead, face smooth and unreadable. When Sirius speaks next, he works very deliberately to make his tone as sarcastic as possible. “No one can blame you if it’s a matter of orientation.”

James goes back to his moping and speaks from behind his hands. “Great plan, Sirius. I’ll tell everyone, I invited all your daughters but actually I’m gay so, yeah, nevermind.” 

“It could work,” Sirius insists. “One kiss from a Black has done stranger things than turn a Potter.”

“You haven’t kissed me,” James argues. “You’ve kissed a bloody lot of alcohol if your breath is any indication.” He looks up again and something reckless blooms inside of Sirius - probably, almost certainly booze fueled.

“Well, here,” Sirius says and reaches out to pull James to him. He expects to get punched or hexed and his mind races to come up with a joke to play off the moment. But to his surprise, James lets himself be pulled, so Sirius closes the gap and presses his lips to James’s.

It’s weird for a brief second where they both keep their eyes open to stare at each other while their lips sit stiffly. Then Sirius inhales a shuddering breath and closes his eyes, sweeps his tongue out across James’s lip, presses harder and kisses deeper until he’s rewarded with a low moan. 

Sirius slides one hand down to James’s hips, pulls his body closer and still encounters no resistance. James presses both knees into Sirius’s closest thigh and then, still being tugged, slips across Sirius’s lap to straddle him.

“Fuck,” Sirius breathes against James’s lips and James responds by rocking his hips forward, but there’s too much space and cloth between them for Sirius to really feel anything. He wants to. 

The kissing turns feverish; James bites Sirius’s lip and Sirius contemplates sliding his hand down the front of James’s pants.

Someone clears their throat.

James practically screams as he falls backward. He lands with a crunching noise on the champagne flutes and his next noise is one of pain, followed by several curse words. 

One of the patrolling Aurors now stands at the path leading back into the house, looking both embarrassed and disgruntled. “Your parents are looking for you,” he says. “They were beginning to be concerned for your...safety.”

“I’m going,” James snaps. He climbs to his feet, dusts off his robes, and heads back toward the magicked dance hall without a single glance backward.

Sirius sits on the bench, achingly hard and painfully confused. He’d never thought about kissing James before but now that he’d done it, he’s suddenly consumed with the thought. And hadn’t he had dreams about James before? Hadn’t he been jealous of Evans?

Rather drunk, Sirius is wholly unprepared to deal with the avalanche of revelations brought on by the kiss, and his erection is further distracting. Instead of ruminating, Sirius does his best to clear his mind and wills his cock to go soft.

It takes a few minutes but Sirius achieves his goal and, ignoring the glares of the two Aurors who no doubt witnessed the entire snog, heads back inside.

He should leave, he knows that. He plans to. But he’s not quite sober enough to hang on to a Portkey. 

In the dance hall, the three Potters stand on a raised platform, apparently Transformed while Sirius was outside. James looks mostly stoic with a side of mild distress. 

Mr. Potter begins to speak with a magically amplified voice, thanking the guests and especially the eligible bachelorettes. Then he clears his throat. 

“We know especially in these difficult times that we all face mortal peril simply by existing and gatherings such as these increase the risk. We want to thank the Ministry for providing security, Albus Dumbledore for additional support, and each of you for being brave enough to defy the fear You-Know-Who wants to instill in us all.”

Mr. Potter nods at his wife and she steps forward to take her turn.

“Now, as you all know, this is far from a traditional betrothal ball. Fleamont and I have no desire to interfere in James’s love life, especially not to ensure any kind of disgusting nonsense as blood purity.” She pauses to allow a chorus of boos and hisses to exhaust itself among the crowd. “We viewed this event merely as a chance to have fun, to relax, to bravely have fun when all sensibilities insist we shouldn’t. That being said-” Mrs. Potter pauses to smile impishly are James, “-we still had to give our son a little bit of a hard time. What else are parents for?”

“On that note,” Mr. Potter says, “James will be announcing his betrothed at this time. Keep in mind by betrothed we merely mean betrothed to take on a single date. Whatever happens after that point is up to the you couple themselves. So, James, who will it be?”

Sirius watches James look between his parents and for a moment he thinks James might actually say his name. He envisions it - fantasizes about it, truthfully. James would say, “Sirius Black,” and shrieks and gasps would erupt, then he’d run off the platform and they’d embrace, and this time Sirius would touch his-

“I’ve had great fun meeting you all tonight,” James says, speaking mostly towards his feet. “I know it’s all a silly game. So, if you’d agree, Alice Fortescue, would you go on a date with me?” 

Good natured applause rings out and Alice, a bright red, steps forward from the crowd to agree. James smiles lopsidedly. “Alright then. Thanks everyone.” 

The crowd starts to disperse almost instantly, a few girls are tearful or furious but most are laughing, chatting amongst themselves. Peter walks up to Sirius with Tara on his arm.

“You two going steady then?” Sirius asks dully and Peter flushes even harder than Alice had moments before.

“I just wanted to see if you’d like to head back together,” Peter mutters. Tara is glaring and Sirius takes comfort in that. He’s so tired of people at the moment.

“Fine,” Sirius says. “Remus left ages ago. Let’s go.” 

The walk back from Hogsmeade is painfully stilted and at the gates to Hogwarts Sirius leaves Peter behind with a mumbled goodbye. It’s only after he climbs up to the Gryffindor dorms and begins to undress that he remembers he’s wearing the robes he borrowed from James.

The drunk part of him wants to dramatically burn the robes but instead Sirius folds them into a neat pile and tucks them into his trunk before falling into bed. Despite the racing mind, he’s asleep within minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

“Wakey wakey,” James says, popping his head through Sirius’s bed hangings. Sirius has been awake for at least an hour but entirely unmotivated to move due to the splitting headache. He merely grunts in James’s general direction and stays burrowed in his sheets. “I have greasy food and a Pepperup potion.”

With a low moan, Sirius forces himself up into a seated position and extends his hand. “Gimme.”

“Here, princess,” James says and presses the bottled green brew into Sirius’s hand. “You look like hell.”

Sirius grunts as answer and then gulps down the potion. He sets the empty bottle on his nightstand; the headache is already fading. “Thanks,” Sirius says reluctantly.

“Greasy food?” James asks and shakes the brown paper bag clutched in his hand. “I went to the kitchen; the elves packed it. I thought we could picnic at the astronomy tower. The snow’s finally melting.” 

Listening, Sirius wonders if he dreamed the entire encounter. No way this was the same boy he’d snogged and contemplated fondling. James is entirely too casual for that.

“Fine,” Sirius says and swings his legs over the side of his bed. He dresses warmly and they walk the familiar path to the tower. Once settled, Sirius opens the bag and finds all his favorites - buttery, flaky biscuits, cheesy scrambled eggs, and sausage so oily the bag practically falls apart, all plated and with an assortment of plastic cutlery.

“The elves outdid themselves,” Sirius says reverently as he grabs a fork. James picks up his own plate and they eat in silence. 

“So, Alice, huh?” Sirius says, eventually, because he can think of nothing else.

“I had to pick someone,” James says, “and everyone knows her and Longbottom have a thing going. I figured we could put on a platonic date and then she’d run off to Frank none the worse.”

“Right, have to be careful not to break any hearts,” Sirius says. There’s a mocking edge to his voice that he can’t quite keep out. James sighs.

“You know that I couldn’t say your name, don’t you? We’re best mates and we kissed, you want me to tell all our classmates and my parents? You want to tell Peter and Remus?” 

“No,” Sirius admits. 

“Then why are you giving me a hard time?” James asks, half-eaten plate forgotten next to him. Sirius shoves his own plate back into the bag and then gestures at James who wordlessly does the same.

“Dunno,” Sirius says. “Guess I’m embarrassed that I came on to you.”

“Well don’t worry about that,” James says with a grin. “I’m sure it was heat of the moment, seeing me surrounded by all those suitors. Some wires got crossed somewhere. Plus you were drunk as a skunk.”

“Hmm.” Sirius picks at his robe as he listens to the excuses. It would be easy to agree and put it behind them. From the sound of it, James isn’t the least bit interested in a repeat performance. But Sirius keeps going back to their kiss, the blurry bits he remembers, and James climbing on top of him when James, clearly, had not been close to drunk. So what was his excuse?

“Hmm?” James echoes questioningly and Sirius reaches out and strokes James’s forearm, traces his fingers around James’s wrist, then grabs James’s hand and lifts. James watches as Sirius draws his hand up and sucks a finger into his mouth, then he hisses and bites on his lower lip. “Fuck, Sirius, are you-?”

Sirius pulls another finger in his mouth, swirls his tongue around the two rough fingerpads, goes hard at the fullness in his mouth and the way James’s eyes fall shut as his mouth opens and a moan escapes.

“Can you imagine me sucking your dick?” Sirius asks, dragging James’s fingers along his lower lip as he speaks. James opens his eyes to look at Sirius and then he nods. “I will.”

James pulls free from the grip and uses both hands to draw Sirius closer. They kiss again. Sirius feels the same sparks and heat in his belly; he’s instantly hard and thinking about what James will feel like in his mouth. 

Sirius presses a hand into James. They both moan into the kiss at the contact and Sirius slips his hand past robe to find skin, hotter and firmer than Sirius expected. For all the times he’s jacked off, it’s still a foreign sensation. James feels completely different.

Sirius pushes the robes out of the way and can’t help but to look down and admire the view, James leaning back on his elbows, legs stretched out before him, eyes glued to Sirius, and Sirius looks up at him as he leans forward and sucks the tip of James’s cock into his mouth. 

James is instantly panting, hips jerking each time Sirius moves his mouth. He doesn’t know what he’s doing so he takes it slowly at first, repeating the movements that makes James hiss. He reaches a hand down to stroke himself through his clothes, although he desperately wishes it was James’s hand and not his own.

James threads his hand through Sirius’s curls and Sirius picks up speed, feeling his own orgasm building and the thought of James cumming only bringing it closer. Then James does, with a low guttural moan and a rush into Sirius’s mouth, and Sirius swallows, strokes himself a few more times with James softening in his mouth, and then he cums into his own hand.

Sirius wipes his mouth on his robe as they both adjust to cover themselves back up. “Was that alright, then?” Sirius asks and James aims a kick at his shin.

“You know it was better than alright,” James says, “but if you really need me to say it. That was the best blowjob I’ve gotten.”

“High praise,” Sirius says. “I’m top one of, what, three?”

“Pillow talk needs work though,” James says. “Overall I rate it a seven.”

“Out of seven, I hope!” Sirius cries, mock scandalized, and James laughs. Sirius’s head spins at how easy it is to talk and joke with James even after sucking him off.

James reaches out and takes Sirius’s hand and then, after a moment, threads their fingers together. 

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” James says. 

“Well, you already said blowjob. There was some snogging there too.” 

“You’ll never be serious, will you?” James asks.

“Now that’s just too easy,” Sirius says. “Are we in first year again with the name puns?”

James answers only by bending down to place a kiss on the back of Sirius’s hand. Then he lets go and stands, breakfast trash in hand. They leave the tower together but part ways on the seventh floor, James claiming he has homework to do and Sirius feeling like he’d rather do anything but.

The grounds are fairly crowded as students enjoy the first day of mild weather in months. Sirius finds a spot by the lake and stretches out, looking at the water but seeing nothing, his mind abuzz reliving the morning’s event, and a small smile playing on his lips.

••••

“How was the date?” Peter asks, smirking. It’s late, past curfew, and James has just walked in from his date with Alice.

Peter persuaded Remus and Sirius to wait up for James and they spent the evening playing card games but as it got later and especially now, seeing the way James avoids looking anywhere near him, Sirius regrets not knocking himself out with a dreamless draught as soon as dinner ended.

“It was fine,” James says, falling onto the loveseat with Remus. 

“Snogging?” Peter asks, smirking. Remus rolls his eyes and leans over the coffee table to collect the now-discarded cards.

“Ever since you started dating Tara that’s all you think about,” Remus says.

“So?” Peter sniffs. “It’s a reasonable question after a date.”

“No snogging,” James says. “It was just as friends, I told you all that. We visited shops and ate dinner.”

“That took five hours?” Peter asks.

“It is pretty late,” Remus agrees.

“We were having fun,” James says and shrugs. “I’m going to bed.”

“Can’t believe we stayed up for this. No bumping uglies, no close calls with Filch, nothing exciting whatsoever?” Peter complains the entire way up to the dorm and even as they dress until Sirius throws a textbook from his nightstand at him.

“Go to sleep,” Sirius barks and Peter grumbles a little but then falls silent. Sirius climbs into his bed, tired enough that he manages sleep quickly, but a small part of him does ask, _That took five hours?_

Sirius dreams that Alice becomes pregnant with two babies at once, one from Frank and one from James, and Sirius is hired as their nanny. James’s baby looks just like his dad and vomits on Sirius’s best robes profusely.

Sirius is admittedly pleased when, a few days later, Frank leaves Ravenclaw table to go eat breakfast at Hufflepuff with Alice.

“Room of requirement tonight?” James asks on the next Friday, as they leave their last class of the day.

“Sure,” Sirius says.

“What are we doing there?” Peter asks and Sirius sighs. Judging by James’s face neither had planned on extending the invite.

“Charms homework,” Sirius says flatly.

“Oh perfect! I haven’t finished mine. Can’t believe we need _16_ inches on Alohamora. We can all work on it together.”

“No,” Sirius says. Peter and James shoot him equally puzzled looks. “It’s just homework for James and I. Extra credit.” 

Peter looks confused and annoyed but he only shrugs and says, “Fine.” Then he pushes his way to the front of the crush of students heading to dinner. 

“That was rude,” James says. Sirius glances around, ensuring they’ve fallen to the back of the group.

“If I don’t get to touch your cock tonight I’m going to go insane,” Sirius says and takes great pleasure in the flush that spreads across James’s face.

“Yeah, but-”

“No,” Sirius cuts off. “Peter will be fine, he’s a big boy. And I need to see you alone.” Sirius sweeps a hungry gaze over James. “It drives me mad that Alice was the last person to kiss you.”

“I told you I’m sorry,” James says, frowning. The morning after the date, when they were alone, he’d shared that the two had kissed after all - Alice had gone for it and James froze. Sirius brushed it off aloud but the image burns him up inside.

“I’m not blaming you,” Sirius says. “I’m only saying I can’t wait to fix that.”

“Me either,” James says. “Kissing her felt like kissing my nan.” 

“Have you been snogging your nan?” Sirius asks, grinning. “How scandalous.” James shoves him through the open doors of the Great Hall and they roughhouse their way to the Gryffindor table.


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius stretches across the luxurious mattress conjured by the Room, feeling stiffness leave his body as he does so, and he brings a hand up to cover his yawn as he looks around. The Room really outdid itself on the ambiance - they are in a small cozy room, furnished with the most comfortable bed Sirius has ever rested upon. Lit candles dot the walls and quiet, soothing music plays without a discernible source.

Sirius blames the room for the way they cuddled and fell asleep. Now he looks at the other side of the bed and finds James, mouth slightly parted, eyes shut tight. His dark hair is strewn across the pillowcase looking, for once, smooth and manageable. Sirius feels a deep throb of pleasure remembering his hands winding through that hair hours earlier as James sucked his cock.

Had it been hours? Sirius slides out of bed and pulls his wand from the pile of robes on the floor. A quick time spell reveals three AM and Sirius swears softly. Remus and Peter would be sure to notice their absence.

Sirius dresses then bends over the bed and shakes James awake. “We have to go to bed,” Sirius says.

“We’re already in bed,” James complains, nestling his forehead against his pillow.

“Our beds. _Separate_ beds.” 

James mutters incoherently but in a way that expresses his displeasure quite clearly. Then he dresses as well and throws his cloak over them both.

“Remus still has the map,” James says. “We’ll have to be careful.”

“But I was planning on singing the Hogwarts anthem on our way up,” Sirius says as they begin the shuffle out of the room.

“Frankly, it wouldn’t surprise me,” James says. James threads his fingers through Sirius’s and they walk back that way, invisible and holding hands.

••••

Time together gets harder. NEWTs rapidly approach and studying becomes paramount although some days the headlines in the Prophet make Sirius doubt the importance of exams at all. Would there even be a world left to care about his scores this time next year? You-Know-Who made that seem increasingly unlikely.

It’s a warm day mid-May and the four Marauders sit in the common room, studying frantically. “You sure it’s powdered beetle here?” James asks Remus, pointing to a line in his notes. “I thought it was diced.”

“Powdered beetle is a thickening agent,” Remus explains patiently and taps further down the page. “You use diced alfalfa for the medicinal properties.”

“I’ll never remember that,” James says sadly. 

“Not with that attitude,” Peter says but his own voice trembles so much that he’s not convincing. Peter has spent the day struggling with his Patronus charm, driven to tears multiple times over his failure.

“I think we need a break,” Sirius says. “We could go fly for a bit.”

“Nah, I need to study,” James says and Peter nods in agreement.

“Spoilsports,” Sirius sighs, glancing out the window at the clear sky. What he really wants to fly is his motorcycle. It’s still shrunken in his trunk, completely untouched since winter holidays. 

“Actually there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you all,” Remus says. James looks up from the Potions notes, frowning.

“What is it?” James asks and lowers his voice as he adds, “Something about Moony? The full moon is Wednesday, right?”

“It’s not about Moony,” Remus says. “But that is why I want to clear the air now. So you can decide if you want to go with me or not.”

“Of course we do,” Sirius says. 

“I’m dating Lily,” Remus says, staring at James. James jerks back as though dodging a punch. Peter’s mouth drops comically open. Looking at the tightness in James’s face, Sirius feels a sense of impending doom sweep through his gut.

Surely James won’t care, can’t care anymore?

“Sorry?” James asks. 

“We had a project in Divination together last term,” Remus explains. He speaks an octave higher and a note faster than normal but his eyes remain steady as he speaks almost exclusively to James. “We ended up, you know, getting along. When we came back from holidays I asked her out.” Remus pauses, clearly hesitating, and adds, kindly, “She was never interested in you.”

“Course not,” James says. “And of course my best friend had to be the one to date her instead.”

“Sirius isn’t dating her,” Peter jokes, a wavery smile on his face as he tries to break the tension. James snaps his eyes to Sirius and the anger in his face melts into guilt and shame. He flushes and looks away.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Sirius says. “I’ve never understood the Evans obsession.” He speaks calmly although he feels like a Niffler that’s spotted gold has been let loose in his intestines.

“Well I’m over her,” James says briskly. “Been over her. Thanks for telling me, Remus. You know, I think flying would do us all some good, what do you say?”

“Alright,” Remus says, looking puzzled but pleased at the easy acceptance. Peter, as always, agrees with James.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Sirius says. He gathers his notes and goes upstairs. When he lays in bed, all he can think about is James and how devastated he became at finding out Evans was dating Remus.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex in this chapter. Eek.

“Let’s not fight,” James says. He caught up with Sirius taking a morning stroll and they’re nearly alone on the grounds, save for a few other students walking here and there. 

“We’re not fighting,” Sirius says with a shrug. “You’re still in love with Evans.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” James says. “It just caught me off guard, alright? Remus more than anything, but I’m fine with it now, honestly. I want you.”

The words _I want you_ do something pleasant to Sirius but he’s not ready to soften all the way yet.

“Then kiss me,” Sirius says.

“Of course,” James says. “Where do you want to meet?”

“I mean right here, right now.” 

James lifts his eyebrows and looks around at the other students. There’s not many but enough that someone would probably notice them snogging.

“You sure about that?” James asks. He’s already moving in and Sirius thrills at the closeness and at James’s complete willingness to do it. Sirius hadn’t intended to actually kiss James but now that they’re inches apart, James’s lips parted and his eyes dark, Sirius can’t bear to delay the contact any further.

Sirius answers by wrapping his arms around James and pulling their bodies together. James tilts his head up and Sirius kisses him. Any jealousy or worry melts away and Sirius thinks only of their lips, their hands, the way James groans when Sirius kisses his neck.

“Oy, get a room!” someone shouts followed by a giggle.

“Excellent idea,” Sirius mumbles into James’s skin and James shudders as he pulls away.

“Room of Requirement again?” James asks. His voice is husky and his eyes stay fixed on Sirius. Sirius wishes they were alone after all so that he could push James down on the grass and have his way with him right then. 

“Lead the way,” Sirius says.

••••

Peter lifts his glass. “To graduation!” he toasts and they clink glasses together: Sirius, James, Remus, Tara, and Lily. 

It’s the last Hogsmeade weekend of their Hogwarts career. Exams are finished, NEWTs have been performed to various levels of proficiency, and all that stands between them and adulthood is the formal graduation ceremony the following week.

Sirius is awash with good feeling, enjoying the buzz from the Butterbeer and the heat from James where he sits next to him, but underneath it all he knows this is the last good week they can reasonably expect for quite a long while. Graduation means embarking from the safe haven of Hogwarts, leaving the protection of ancient spells and the one man You-Know-Who fears.

“I’ve been looking at flats,” Peter says. “They have some now with top-notch wards and patrols. They can get pretty expensive but if we all split one we could manage. We could rent a three bedroom, hey?”

“Sirius and I would have to share?” James asks, pretending to mind. He winks at Sirius.

“Well that or pay out the nose for some crappy flat in Muggle London,” Peter says and he grimaces. “You-Know-Who’s favorite hunting grounds.”

“Oh don’t say hunting grounds,” Tara says with a shiver. “It sounds so horrible.”

“It _is_ horrible,” Sirius says, rougher than he intends.

“We’ll live with you, Peter,” says Lily, delicately redirecting, and Remus nods. “Somewhere extra safe sounds perfect right now.”

Later, Sirius and James stay when the others head back. They haven’t kissed in public since the day on the grounds and apparently they hadn’t been identified because no news of it ever reached their friends. Right then Sirius wants very badly to kiss him in public again.

But James leans away, drains his Butterbeer, and says, “My dad talked to Albus about us joining the Order.”

“Oh,” Sirius says. His brain scrambles to shift away from horny half-formed fantasies.

“It’s all set up. After graduation we’ll go to my house and then Dad’ll take us to headquarters.” James chews his lip as he stares at the empty bottle in his hands. “My parents want me to stay at the headquarters. They say it’s charmed to the teeth and much safer.”

“Then why don’t they?”

“Exactly what I asked,” James says. “They said they have to look after the elves.” He sighs. “And they said Dumbledore doesn’t want all the members in one place. Too risky if there’s any sort of attack.”

“Makes sense, doesn’t it? Guess that’s why he’s in charge,” Sirius says.

“I want to stay with my parents,” James says. “Help keep them safe. They’d love to have you too, I know they would.”

“Course,” Sirius agrees. “They’re my parents too.”

“So I think we should tell them,” James says, gesturing from himself to Sirius. “I’m tired of sneaking around.”

“Hear, hear,” Sirius says. “So I’ll kiss you now then.” James grins but shakes his head.

“I want them to hear it from us. If we start snogging here, word will definitely get back to them before we can.”

“Fine, fine,” Sirius grumbles. “Then let’s get out of here to somewhere where I can kiss you.”

“How about my bed?” James asks. “We can spell the hangings shut and use a silencing charm.”

“Very daring, Potter,” Sirius says. “I rate that a 9 out of 10 on the Gryffindor idiocy-slash-bravery scale.”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to lay in my bed with my mouth on your prick?”

Sirius throws money on the table and practically drags James out of the pub.

They wave at Remus and Peter in the common room but keep moving and, once upstairs, tumble into James’s bed. James casts the promised spells as they both strip off their robes.

“Why didn’t we do this earlier?” Sirius asks, running his hands over James’s shoulders, down his chest and abdomen, finding his cock and enveloping it in his hand, squeezing and stroking to feel it come to life within his grasp.

“Not foolproof,” James gasps, rocking forward into Sirius’s hand. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

“How about this?” Sirius asks and bends forward to suck the tip. James groans and digs his fingers into Sirius’s shoulders.

“I was supposed to do that,” James says.

“Are you complaining?” Sirius sits up to ask and James shakes his head, gesturing downward.

“No, no, don’t stop,” James says and Sirius bends back down. It’s all familiar to him at this point, James’s heat and taste, the noises he makes when a swipe of tongue feels particularly good, the way his hands stiffen into fists when he’s close.

They’ve spent a lot of time sucking each other off the past few months but never more than that and, feeling spontaneity born out of intense lust, Sirius decides to try something new. 

“Can I…?” He trails off, running his hand over James’s ass and slipping a finger between his cheeks, pressing the entrance he finds there but not trying to enter.

“Oh, um.” James sits up. “You want to?”

“I want to do whatever feels good,” Sirius says and James looks at him for a moment longer before shrugging his shoulders.

“Okay,” he says. “Look, er, in my top drawer. There’s a tube that will help.” Sirius sticks his hand through the hangings and digs around in the nightstand until he thinks he feels what James asked for. Sirius pulls it into the bed and reads the label.

“James Potter, you have lube in your nightstand?” Sirius asks. “Have you been experimenting?”

“If you embarrass me I won’t want to do it,” James says threateningly but without any real venom.

“Forget I said anything,” Sirius responds instantly and unscrews the cap. He leans over James and kisses him the way he knows James like - hard, with lots of tongue and teeth, licking and nibbling his way down to the very sensitive spot on James’s neck, then continuing lower until his mouth finds hard cock again.

Sirius multitasks, sucking and licking while his hands open the tube and squeeze out a generous amount. Sirius coats his right fingers and then, still bobbing up and down, nudges a slick finger against James’s asshole.

James moans, pleasured but with an edge of discomfort, and so Sirius moves very slowly as he inches his finger past the tight ring of skin. James’s moans become slightly panicked. Sirius looks up to find his eyes screwed shut and his fingers fisting the sheets. His finger stills and he pulls back.

“Are you-?” Sirius starts and James shakes his head.

“Don’t stop,” James says again so Sirius takes him at his word and keeps going. 

Sirius gets one finger in, then another, and as he begins to glide them in and out James’s moans change to pure pleasure, an animalistic sound Sirius is not quite used to. Sirius only intends to touch James but hearing him enjoy the penetration makes Sirius want more.

“Can I try-?” Sirius asks and when James opens his eyes, Sirius gestures at his erection. 

“Oh, fuck,” James breathes. He’s bright red, more flushed than Sirius has ever seen, and then James nods. “Please,” he whispers and it is only his great affection for James that stops Sirius from trying to ram it straight in, so turned on is he by the whispered plea.

Sirius squeezes more lube out and strokes himself with it, admiring James on the bed, legs stretched wide open, cock hard and balls tight above the hole Sirius is about to enter.

Sirius leans down and kisses James as he presses his tip forward. His cock is slick and James’s hole is slippery and stretched so with the lightest pressure he opens up for Sirius.

The sensation is almost pain, so tightly is his cock squeezed, but watching himself disappear into James inch by inch is tantalizing enough to override that. “Relax,” Sirius says, stroking James’s hair with his clean left hand, finding him sweaty and glassy eyed. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Doesn’t hurt,” James grunts. With a little wiggle and a loud moan he pushes the rest of Sirius’s cock inside him. “You’re fucking me, Sirius.”

“I know,” Sirius says and rocks, gently at first and slightly harder when James only moans in response. “It feels so fucking good.”

Then their words give away to sounds of pleasure, Sirius moves slowly even when everything inside him is screaming at him to go faster, and once he’s adjusted he reaches down with his still slick hand and strokes James.

It takes less than a minute of that and James cums with a strangled yell as he spills in Sirius’s grip. Sirius knows his time is limited now so he picks up the pace just a bit. He sees James bite his lip but he’s so close-

“Sirius-,” James starts to say but it doesn’t matter because it’s over. Sirius’s own orgasm rips through him; he feels himself pulse inside James and then start to soften. Sirius slowly pulls out and peppers James’s face with kisses. Then he eases into the small space beside James and wraps his arm around his best friend.

“Thank you,” Sirius says and James chuckles.

“You’re welcome, I suppose,” he answers.

“You’re supposed to thank me too,” Sirius says. James slides his hand over Sirius’s stomach and grabs his hip, holding him even tighter.

“Thanks, then. Prat,” James says.

“I wish I could fall asleep here with you.” Sirius runs his fingers through James’s hair. “So comfortable.”

“It wouldn’t be after a full night. We’d be cramped in places we didn’t know had muscles,” James says.

“You’re right.” Sirius lies still with James as long as he can, until he feels his eyes start to flutter shut. Then he rouses himself and grabs his robes from the foot of the bed to pull them on over his still sweaty skin. “I’m going to shower.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” James says and rolls over, burrowing into his bed.

Sirius showers, relishing the steamy water on his sore and sticky body. He thinks about what just happened over and over until Remus enters the shower and Sirius realizes he’s sporting a halfie.

Sirius turns away to face the wall and tries to think of something else. He settles on his family, on his mum instructing him to never return the day he’d left home from winter holidays. It’s enough to soften his erection but still the memories play in Sirius’s mind and as he finishes his shower he can’t wait to do it all again.


	7. Chapter 7

The morning of graduation, the seventh years are abuzz with excitement. The Marauders are no exception.

“Today’s the day,” James says cheerfully, unfolding a copy of the morning’s Daily Prophet. “Our final day of boyhood.”

“I haven’t been a boy in years,” Peter says.

“Have you known Tara for years?” Remus teases and Peter goes pink.

“Hey-”

“Mr. Potter.” Sirius looks at James instead of Professor McGonagall, who has just spoken. He notices then that James sits absolutely still, white faced, the Prophet crushed in his hands. “Come to my office for a moment.” James stands woodenly, strikingly quiet and obedient, the crumpled paper clutched to his chest.

“I’m coming too,” Sirius says. He scrambles to his feet and starts following them. McGonagall moves at a surprisingly brisk pace.

“If Mr. Potter wishes it,” is all she says and the lack of resistance disturbs Sirius even more.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asks and James wordlessly passes him the Prophet. Sirius smooths out the wrinkles and reads the headline.

_Respected Pureblood Couple Found Dead Under Dark Mark._

Underneath the headline, amid lines of small text describing the attack, is a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Potter, clutching each, grinning, and waving. Sirius recognizes the picture as one James took on their last holiday abroad, before You-Know-Who got too powerful to risk travel.

_Couple Found Dead_

Sirius rereads the headline over and over until the newspaper blurs. He hastily swipes the tears away. It’s so much worse for James. He can’t cry. He wants to grab James in a hug, smother all the pain, but he can’t and so he simply walks alongside him.

When McGonagall stops it is not in front of her office but instead Dumbledore’s. “Marshmallow pop,” she says to the gargoyle and it springs aside.

They climb the staircase and find Dumbledore seated at his desk, several scrolls unrolled before him, a quill twitching in his hand as he scribbles something.

Sirius can’t help himself any longer. He reaches out and takes James’s hand. He’s half expecting to be rebuked but instead James squeezes back with crushing force. 

“Please, boys, take a seat. Thank you Professor McGonagall, I’m sure you have graduation preparations to attend to.”

James and Sirius settle down onto two velvet footstools placed opposite Dumbledore’s desk as McGonagall departs back to the corridor.

“I’m sorry, James. Your parents were some of the finest people of the many fine people I’ve been lucky enough to know.” Dumbledore sighs and rubs one knuckle into his forehead. “Voldemort continues to spread murder and mayhem across our world.” Dumbledore pauses and looks from James to Sirius then back again. “Fleamont spoke with me about your wishes to join the Order. Have your feelings changed?”

“No,” James says at once and his hands curl into fists in his lap. “Not at all.”

“Same here,” Sirius says.

“Then, unless you still wish to attend graduation, we can begin preparations to induct you both at once.” Dumbledore picks up the quill he had previously written with and twirls it softly as he says, “I won’t lie to either of you. We are in poor condition. Voldemort recruits wizards at a frightening rate and he has Inferni and Dementors at his side as well.”

“If You-Know-Who is going to win, at least we’ll know we tried to stop him,” Sirius says. James, looking at some sort of spindly instrument on Dumbledore’s desk, nods.

“He hasn’t won yet,” Dumbledore says, though he sounds weary rather than rallying. Then he seems to pull himself together a bit. He sits up straighter and slides a sheet of parchment across the desk towards James. “Let’s begin here.”

••••

“Is it stupid of me to ask how you’re doing?” Sirius asks. James shrugs and continues removing the black robes he wore to his parents’ funeral. They’d kept it small, on the grounds of their home, to allow for stronger wards. James had stared stoically at the preserved bodies of his parents even as he carried on brief conversations with well wishers. He’d looked away only when the coffins swung shut in preparation to be lowered into the ground.

The last piece of clothing to fall to the floor is his underwear and then James stands there, naked, staring at the wall in front of him and not moving. Sirius shrugs off his outer robe, leaving him in a black dress shirt and black slacks, and embraces James from behind, pressing his forehead into James’s shoulder and wishing that could be enough to make him feel better.

“Voldemort is a sick fuck,” James says and Sirius flinches a little despite himself.

“You said his name,” Sirius says.

“Yep. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort. Fuck him and fuck all the sniveling cowards following him. Merlin, I can’t wait to finish training and really get out there.” 

“We’re only going to be back up,” Sirius reminds him and James shrugs him off to turn around and glare.

“Only? That means they’ll need us for the really good fights. They won’t need back up for a simple Death Eater. It’ll be a meeting of them, or an Inferni army, or something worth fighting.” 

“You’re right,” Sirius says soothingly, startled by the vicious way James looks at him and not at all itching for a fight. “I’m sorry, you’re completely right.”

James softens at that and he leans forward to rest his forehead against Sirius’s. “Today was the worst day of my life,” James says. “Thank you for being there.”

“Any day, any time,” Sirius vows and for the first time in a week, James cracks a small smile.

“You’re such a romantic,” James says.

“I’m your best friend,” Sirius says. “Always here for you.”

“I love you,” James says and kisses Sirius, softly, briefly. 

“I love you too,” Sirius says. The words feel strange in his mouth. He’s not sure he’s ever said them before. Definitely never to his family - even as a toddler he was a storm of tantrums and defiance. But even though the phrase is entirely foreign, something feels familiar about saying it to James. “And did you see Peter’s eyes bug out when I kissed you earlier?”

James smiles again, his second one. Sirius hopes he’s able to stop counting soon.


	8. Chapter 8

Life as a member of the Order of the Phoenix is nowhere near as glamorous as Sirius anticipates. He and James mostly spend their days holed up at the Potter house, living off their large reserves of gold, refreshing security charms, discussing the Daily Prophet, playing card games, and running Quidditch scrimmages. 

Remus and Lily visit near the end of summer, a visit that requires very carefully coordinated lowering and raising of the wards to allow their Apparition in. Lily flashes a simple engagement ring and, over lunch, Remus watches with obvious discomfort when Sirius and James kiss. They take a walk and no one brings up anything about the war. It’s a nice reprieve.

“Maybe we’ll be the next ones to get engaged,” Sirius teases after they leave. They sit cross-legged before the unlit fireplace, a deck of cards spread between them.

“How would that work?” James asks. 

“You would propose to me, obviously. And I would have to wait an appropriate period of time before answering - I believe recent Pureblood decorum dictates six months.”

“If I propose, every day that you don’t answer is a day you can’t shag me,” James says. He smirks as he picks up the deck and begins to shuffle.

“Okay, my pre-emptive answer is yes then,” Sirius says hurriedly. Taking advantage of James’s occupied hands, he reaches around and pinches the top of James’s ass. “But now you have to ask,” Sirius adds over a yelp of protest.

Three months later, Remus and Lily are married in a ceremony even smaller than the funeral for Mr. and Mrs. Potter. They move out of their shared flat with Peter, who was dumped shortly after graduation, and into their own cottage in Coventry. Remus assures them through an owl that it has a very sturdy basement in which Lily locks him each full moon.

James and Sirius are called to the Order headquarters - a sprawling estate under magical protection nearly as powerful as Hogwarts’ - more and more often as the year draws to a close. They spend the entire month of November working with a small group of members to track down a former Death Eater, hoping to glean some sort of information on Voldemort’s whereabouts or tactics. Instead, after five weeks of searching, they locate his headless corpse alongside the disemboweled bodies of his wife and two young children, all bloated in decomposition.

Sirius and James don’t sleep well for a long time after that.

••••

“Harry?” Sirius repeats, staring at the small bundle in James’s arms. “You, a werewolf, named your son _Harry_?”

“It’s cute,” James says. He strokes the small brown tufts of hair at the top of the baby’s head. “Like father, like son.”

“I’m embarrassed to admit I never made that connection,” Remus says. He looks absolutely exhausted, clothes rumpled, hair wild, and Lily practically threw the baby at James before retiring to the bedroom to take a nap. “Still like it, though.”

“Of course you do,” James says and then adds in a high, sing-song voice as he leans forward, “Who wouldn’t like this cute widdle baby?”

“I think he meant the name, James, not the baby itself,” Sirius says.

“Would you two mind if I shower? It’s been...a while.” Remus yawns. “If he cries just come get me.”

“My pleasure,” James says and continues to stare at Harry reverently.

“You want children,” Sirius says, not asking because the answer is written clearly across James’s face.

“Oh...one day, maybe, if we make it through this mess.” James shifts Harry to his other arm. 

“We can’t have any,” Sirius says.

“We could adopt. I’m sure there will be plenty of orphans when this is all over,” James says, offhandedly, and Sirius’s stomach twists. He doesn’t answer; his mind is now consumed with thoughts of all the dead people they’ve seen. How many had left children behind? “Sorry,” James says and, hands occupied, reaches out a foot and rubs it against Sirius’s calf. “I know we said we wouldn’t talk about the war today.”

“It’s hard not to,” Sirius says and then holds his hands out. “Alright, baby hog, my turn.” James pouts but passes Harry over. The baby stirs in his sleep, mouth puckering unhappily, and Sirius stares down at him, mildly panicking. “He didn’t do this to you!” Harry’s eyes begin to flutter, his mouth screws up in the beginning of a wail, and Sirius passes him back to James as quickly as he can.

Harry nestles back into the crook of James’s arm and lets out a content sigh, eyes shut once again.

“Harry hates me,” Sirius says sadly.

“You have plenty of time to win him over,” James says, though his smile is rather smug. 

Remus emerges from the shower looking cleaner but still thoroughly exhausted. He accepts Harry back from Sirius and settles on the armchair holding his son.

“How are things?” he asks, looking between Sirius and James. “Are you staying safe?”

“Is anyone?” Sirius asks and Remus nods.

“Good point. Sometimes I wonder how horrible we must be to bring a baby into this nightmare,” Remus says. He strokes his knuckles over Harry’s forehead and Harry coos in his sleep. “But then I also think, life must go on. If we don’t keep living, what’s the point of fighting? Might as well give up and die.”

“Cheers to that,” James says and lifts an invisible glass.

“Oh, I’d kill for anything stronger than apple juice,” Remus says wistfully. “I told Lily I wouldn’t drink since she can’t either with nursing Harry.”

“We’ll have one in your honor,” James says solemnly.

“One? Hell, I’ll throw a dozen back for you.” Sirius mimes double fisting shots and Remus laughs.

“I’m glad you came,” Remus says. “Peter was here the other day, you know, but I don’t think he’s handling the stress as well as you two. He seemed...uneasy.”

“We’ll have to owl him,” James says. Sirius says nothing because he never much liked Peter and has no interest in reconnecting with him now. “But we have to get going now.”

“I’d hug you but Harry screams if we put him down,” Remus says and James reaches down to lightly fist bump the hand nestled under Harry’s back. “Good enough, I suppose.”

“Don’t be strangers,” Lily says as she hurries out of the bedroom, pulling her robe tighter around her waist. “That nap was heavenly.”


	9. Chapter 9

“A hundred cat-sized lions or ten lion-sized cats?” James asks. The sun gleams off the green blades of the Potter lawn, a startlingly sunny day for mid-August. Sirius and James move through the grounds slowly, enjoying the weather, the soft sound of birds chirping not far off, and the nasally laugh of a gnome they can’t see.

“That would be the exact same thing, dear,” Sirius says. “Lions are cats.”

“Oh,” James says with a frown. “I suppose so. What about a hundred frog-sized bears or ten bear-sized frogs?”

“Better,” Sirius says. “Are the frogs angry?”

“Absolutely vicious,” James says. “Their terrifying ribbits have made lesser men die of fear.”

“So a Grim frog? Fascinating.” Sirius rolls the two choices around in his mind and then shrugs. “I suppose the tiny bears. I could just stomp on them. You said no magic, right?”

“Magic would be too easy,” James says. “You could just shrink the big frogs down to normal size.”

“Or I could imperius one and have it go after you instead,” Sirius suggests.

“Then we’d both be dead,” James says.

“Exactly. You think you’re allowed to live without me?” Sirius asks. He means it as a joke and James smiles but he sees underneath it a flash of anxiety at the reminder of their own mortality. It’s impossible to talk about anything lately without touching a nerve. “Sorry,” Sirius says and reaches for James’s hand.

“It’s fine,” James says. His hand is warm within Sirius’s, so familiar at this point. “So...what about a _thousand_ frog-sized bears?”

••••

It’s Christmas Day and Sirius has no idea where James is. He knows he’s been sent forth by Dumbledore and he knows it’s something important. He wasn’t told anything else. So Sirius wakes up in a foul mood, awash with warring emotions. He’s annoyed at not being needed, frustrated at not being informed, and petrified of the possibility of James not returning. The wedding photo on the mantel of Mr. and Mrs. Potter, dancing in and out of the frame, reminds him how all too real this possibility is.

Sirius drinks several cups of spiked tea and barks at the house elves that cross his path. James hates when he’s cross with the elves but then, James isn’t here to care.

By noon he’s already nodding off, coaxed by the whiskey, and when he wakes hours later it’s with a stiff back and a pounding headache. Their potion stores lack Pepperup potion - almost all potions and ingredients go to the war effort, to Dumbledore, of course. So Sirius sips water and knuckles his forehead and worries about James.

James returns two days later. He sweeps in the front door remarkably cheerful, a shoddily wrapped present in the crook of one arm, and he beams as he bends down to kiss Sirius who didn’t bother to get up from the couch.

“I have the best news,” James says, settling into the couch next to Sirius. “We got the giants.”

“What?” Sirius gasps, soreness instantly forgotten. “The giants? How? Just now?”

“Hagrid, Dunelin, and I went to them. Brought loads of gifts, Dumbledore sent us practically with a script, and they went with it. They sent three scouts with us as a show of good faith, so Dunelin said, and they’ll be sending more.” James speaks rapidly, giddily. It’s the happiest Sirius has seen him in a very long time.

“The giants,” Sirius repeats with a touch of awe. “We thought they were for Voldemort.” It’s the first good news they’ve had in longer than Sirius cares to count.

“It’s wonderful,” James says and then thrusts the present forward. “For you.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” Sirius says as he takes the gift. There’s tape everywhere and what must have been at a bow at one point lies limply on top. 

“Open it,” James urges. 

Sirius tears through the snowflake-patterned paper and finds a Quidditch book and a sweater, emblazoned with the initials SP. 

“SP?” Sirius asks. “Super Prick? Silly Prat?”

“All correct,” James says, “but I was thinking more like Sirius Potter.” Sirius looks up from the sweater and sees James kneeling next to the couch, a small box in his hands.

“Why not James Black? Sounds much cooler,” Sirius says.

“It does,” James says. “But if we have to pick a family to align with, I thought mine would be better.”

“Absolutely,” Sirius says and then nods at the box. “So, what’s in there?” He grins. James opens the lid and displays two gold bands. “No diamond?” 

“Diamonds are for betrothals,” James says. “I thought we could bond ourselves right now.”

“Oh, I haven’t a thing to wear,” Sirius says.

“Be serious,” James says and then shakes his hand. “Damn. Too easy. Be...ugh. You’re impossible.”

“And you want to marry me so you’re nuts,” Sirius says. “But I’m ready if you are.”

They perform the ceremony, a simple spell passed through generations, and slide the rings on each other’s fingers. The rings glow for a moment, emit a pleasant heat, and then the glow fades and the rings sit, simple and unassuming, a permanent mark of their connection.

“James Black is actually growing on me,” James says later as they lay in bed.

“Then you owe me a new sweater,” Sirius says. He nestles his head against his husband’s shoulder and tries to pretend that things will never get worse than this moment.

••••

_James and Sirius,_

_Thank you for not inviting me to your wedding. I mean it. Dragging Harry out of this house would not be pleasant for anyone. Have I told you his new favorite hobbies are screaming, biting, and pooping so much it shoots out his diaper?_

_Dumbledore will have told you we’re in hiding, of course. I can’t send any more letters, the owls would be suspicious if spotted. I miss and love you both. Congratulations and I can’t wait til we kick this thing and get to spen_ d _time together again._

_Love,_   
_Remus (and Lily and Harry)_


	10. Chapter 10

The first nine months of the Black marriage are hell, pure and simple. A day can’t go by without someone they know dying brutally. The giants never send more help and the wizarding world continues to fall. The Order’s numbers dwindle so quickly that by summer Dumbledore disbands the group, urging everyone to go into hiding under the Fidelius Charm.

“We can’t save anyone else,” he tells the remaining six members at their last meeting. “We can only save ourselves.” He speaks with great effort and pain and walks with a limp, all the effects of a permanent hex that crippled his left leg.

James and Sirius heed his advice, selecting Dumbledore as their Secret Keeper, as do the rest of the members. They hide in their home, venturing out for food as rarely as possible.

On Halloween, they do nothing to celebrate. They read, play chess, listen to the radio - the same as any other day. At night, they fuck before falling asleep holding each other.

Their slumber is interrupted by a pounding at the front door. Sirius is instantly awake. He grabs his wand and runs, naked, to the entrance. His heart thuds in his chest as he casts a revealing spell and sees - Dumbledore, a sleeping toddler in his arms.

Sirius opens the door, forgetting his state of undress. “Albus?” Sirius asks. “What’s going on?”

“Sirius, I think you forgot these,” James says, coming from the bedroom, dressed and holding a pair of robes. Sirius flushes and snatches them. “Albus?” James prompts as Sirius pulls the robes on.

“Remus and Lily are dead,” Dumbledore says. He has shared so many, many deaths but his voice never loses a profound sadness at the event. Although it’s been nearly a year since they’ve spoken, although everyone they’ve ever known has died at this point, it still hurts. Their best childhood friend and his wife, two more lost souls.

“So this is Harry?” James asks as he nods at the toddler.

“Yes,” Dumbledore says. “And Harry has done something quite remarkable. He has survived the killing curse.” Dumbledore tilts Harry towards James and Sirius and brushes his hair off his forehead. An angry red cut marks Harry’s forehead. It looks something like a lightning bolt.

“How?” Sirius demands. “How could a baby-?”

“I do not know,” Dumbledore says. “I only know it has happened. And with his survival, Harry has vanquished the so-called Dark Lord. The curse rebounded. I saw Voldemort’s body myself, lying in the floor at Harry’s crib.”

“This is impossible,” Sirius mutters. James moves forward and stretches his arms out.

“We’ll take Harry,” he says and Dumbledore smiles.

“I’d hoped you would,” Dumbledore says. “I’ve charmed him to sleep. I would let him continue to rest and wake him in the morning.” He reaches inside his robe and pulls out a glass bottle. “This balm should help the wound. It will scar, of course. Dark magic always does.” Dumbledore rubs his left leg as he speaks.

Sirius takes the bottle, eyes still on Harry, brain still whirring, stunned by the miraculous nature of it all.

“Albus,” James says, “why us?”

“Remus and Lily have no living blood relatives - none fit to raise a child, at least. You two are Remus’s family through love and for Harry I believe that will be enough.” Dumbledore pulls a large coin from his pocket and it vibrates in his hand. “I must go. Many things to do, many people to see. Hogwarts will reopen and you three will always have a home there.”

Dumbledore leaves and the new family stands in the foyer - James cradles Harry to his chest and Sirius watches them both.

“We’ll have to Transfigure some furniture,” James says. “A crib, a high chair. Oh, nappies, Sirius, we need those, of course.”

“I’ll go get them,” Sirius says slowly. “It’s safe now, isn’t it? If Albus is out and about, if Voldemort is dead, I can run to the store, don’t you think?”

“I think so,” James says solemnly. “I think...it’s all over.”

Sirius transfigures a coffee table into a crib and James lays Harry down in it. Then he goes to make coffee while Sirius changes into Muggle clothes and walks the two miles to the nearest shop. It’s 5 AM but they’re open. The shelves are stocked, the lights gleam, and Sirius feels as though he’s dreaming when he moves through the aisles. This was where they’d hurriedly snatch groceries and run home. Now he walks through the aisles leisurely, browses through magazines, and admires his reflection in the meat case.

Sirius buys a cartful of diapers and a parenting magazine he spots in the checkout lane. He shrinks his purchases down, sticks them in his pocket, and strolls home.

James has spent the hour creating a full nursery out of a spare room - there in his crib is Harry, enchanted to slumber away, and there’s also a rocking chair, a dresser, a changing table, and a plush rug.

“Poor Harry,” Sirius says as he takes in the room. “Poor Remus and Lily.”

“We’ll keep them alive to him,” James says firmly. “He’ll know his parents.”

Sirius nods. “He’ll always be Harry Lupin.”


	11. Epilogue

“Harry!” James calls. “Get in here!” Sirius smirks at his husband.

“Do you have to call him like that? Poor lad will think he’s in trouble,” Sirius says and James grins back.

As predicted, Harry dashes into the room, light brown eyes wide, flaming hair rumpled. “I didn’t do it,” he says instantly.

“Always the first words of an innocent man,” Sirius says. Harry frowns.

“Okay, I... _may have_ trapped the gnome and then let him loose in the kitchen. But I just wanted to see the elves use their magic. They never do it when I ask,” Harry says and ends with a magnificent pout, bottom lip protruding and cheeks quivering.

“The elves aren’t here to serve you, not yet anyway,” James says. “And I had no idea you brought a gnome inside.”

“Amateur work, really, Harry. We need to work on your ingenuity,” Sirius says.

“But more importantly,” James says, loudly, speaking over Harry as he begins to protest. “You have mail.”

“Mail?” Harry repeats, frowning. “Who would write to me?”

“See for yourself,” James says and holds out the letter. Harry takes it, skims the front, and flips the envelope over. When he sees the wax seal on the back, he gasps.

“My Hogwarts letter!” Harry cries and presses it to his chest. “A week before my birthday, even!”

“They must be very excited to have you,” Sirius says. 

“Because I killed Voldemort,” Harry says and scrunches his nose. “I was a baby, I didn’t even know what I was doing.”

“Not because of that,” Sirius says. “Because you’re a powerful, clever, brave, loyal little wizard.” Harry blushes, cheeks turning as red as his hair.

“Oh, stop, Papa,” Harry whines. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Just wait til we drop you off at the train,” Sirius says. “I might wear a dress.”

“Dad!” Harry says pleadingly, turning to James. “You wouldn’t let him do that, would you?”

“I promise, Harry, I will divorce your father if he ever wears a dress in public,” James says and Harry, appearing satisfied with this, nods.

“I’m going to go read my letter,” Harry says and runs off to his bedroom with the parchment clutched tightly in his hand.

“If I wear a dress in public?” Sirius says once he’s sure Harry is gone. “That sounds like there’s other places you wouldn’t mind me wearing one.”

“Well, we are going to have a lot more free time when Harry goes to school,” James says slyly. “Who knows what we’ll get into?”

Sirius laughs, a booming laugh that took several years to reappear after the war ended but now comes easily and often. He bends over James and kisses him, expecting a perfunctory peck, but James reaches up and laces his hands around Sirius’s neck, holding him in place, kissing him harder.

“Behave,” Sirius murmurs against James’s lips. “He doesn’t leave for another month.”

“But he will be asleep in about four hours,” James says. “Unless you have other plans?”

“You know I don’t,” Sirius says, pulling back, smiling at James, content and at peace in a way he wasn’t sure would ever be possible a decade ago. “Love you, James Black.”

“And I love you, Sirius Potter,” James says with a mischievous grin that conveys perfectly how happy he is, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end! I hope if you made it this far, you enjoyed it. Thank you for following along ❤️


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